Gallery Skuggi, Reykjavík Iceland.
A video documents cups, plates, and saucers flying through the air, colliding with a wall and breaking apart. The lens isolates the moment of impact: porcelain exploding into shards, fragments scattering across the floor.
In the space, an armchair and a footrest stand nearby, their surfaces entirely covered in those same fragments. The furniture is no longer neutral support but reconstituted into jagged sculptural forms.
Together, the video and sculptures establish a closed circuit of destruction and re-formation. The violence of breaking and the stillness of the encrusted objects hold each other in tension, an installation balanced between fragility and aggression, domesticity and estrangement.
On the wall, a box with a mirror and small holes, with an opening for a face to disappear into the stars.
In the basement, a life-size, site-specific video shows a figure hiding behind a column, peeking out from time to time. Now and then she jumps to the light switch on the wall, turning the room dark. Moments later she switches the lights back on and quickly hides behind the column again. For a moment, viewers may be unsure whether the figure is present in the space itself. In the next room, behind a closed door, the sound from the video of the broken tableware is being played.
Sara Björnsdóttir 